


coffee bean kiss

by rosepetalrichie



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Coffee Shops, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, nothing steamy minus richie's dick jokes but that is to be expected, richie takes eddie on a coffee date and eddie is a big gay loser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21867556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosepetalrichie/pseuds/rosepetalrichie
Summary: Evidently, nothing about them has changed since old times. Not the humor, not the bickering, and… definitely not Eddie’s feelings. It shows in how they continue to bounce banter off of each other the entire way there, and it shows in how Richie holds the cafe door open for Eddie, giving him a bow and a “M'lady” that prompts the classic-Eddie response of rolling his eyes and suppressing a smile, and it shows in how the small action that was meant to be taken platonically still makes Eddie’s heart skip a couple of beats.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 177
Collections: IT Fandom Secret Santa 2019





	coffee bean kiss

**Author's Note:**

> hi i finished this a little bit late but that is okay because i’m actually kind of proud of it lol. this is my gift for s-onora on tumblr for the secret santa hosted by itfandomprompts! hope you enjoy it hehe

The winter months are overall bittersweet if Eddie had to describe them in one word. Finals have been clawing at his mental state (and admittedly his physical state; the constant greasy takeout gives him the worst stomachaches) to the point where he’ll often pass out at 2 AM with a face-full of textbook. But the enjoyable parts of winter have mostly made up for it. He likes spending time with his friends, he likes the new Starbucks hot drinks, he likes giving gifts, and he likes receiving gifts – call him greedy for that, but the mini vacuum his mom got him last year that is perfectly dorm-sized has brought so much joy into his life it’s almost embarrassing.

The ’whirr’ of that vacuum makes its way around his earbuds and Freddie Mercury’s high notes as Eddie tries to clean up the mess that has begun to build up from a lack of care on both his and his roommate’s part. For how long Eddie has been cooped up in this room, he sure hasn’t been taking care of it. He never learned to juggle, and that was especially true of having to juggle his grades, his health, and his tidiness. But it’s whatever. He’s on break now. A twenty-minute break, but a break nonetheless.

He doesn’t hear the knock at the door, despite how loud and repetitive it is, and “Bohemian Rhapsody” continues to play on while Eddie stays distracted from the original vacuuming task and gently bounces on his toes and mouths the lyrics. It’s not until he notices the movement out of the corner of his eye that he turns around and flinches at the sight of Richie standing in the doorway.

Eddie plucks an earbud out and furrows his brow. “How’d you get in?”

“What?”

The vacuum is still going. Eddie turns it off and repeats his question.

“Your door isn’t locked,” Richie answers.

Dammit. Eddie props the vacuum against the wall and tosses his phone onto the desk. “I don’t have money to go grab lunch today. I’m on a crunch this week.”

“I wasn’t gonna ask to get food, actually,” Richie says, giving Eddie a tight-lipped smile and raises an eyebrow. “Am I not allowed to just want to hang out?”

“I dunno, man.” Eddie huffs and drapes himself over his desk chair. “Sometimes I wonder if you just use me for lunch money. Like a glorified high school bully.” Richie takes a seat on Eddie’s bed and the first thing Eddie notices is the mud all over Richie’s sneakers and how much he brought into the room. So much for vacuuming.

Richie chuckles at Eddie’s remark. “You say that like I didn’t try to crack Henry Bower’s kneecaps with Stan’s baseball bat senior year.”

“Keyword is ‘tried’.”

“Whatever.” Richie sighs and flops back onto the squeaky mattress. “There’s actually a new cafe a little ways downtown-”

“Did you forget the entirety of what I just said?”

Richie raises his hand. “I’ll pay, relax.” He strains his neck to look up at Eddie. “Maybe the nice, warm coffee will loosen up that stick in your ass.” Eddie scrunches his face at that. “It’s a short walk.”

“I have to study,” Eddie argues.

“Didn’t look like you were when I came in. You can spare an extra twenty minutes.”

“Okay, well, it’s freezing cold outside and I don’t feel like walking anywhere today.”

“ _…I’ve got to go awayyy-_ ”

“Please don’t start singing.”

“I can be the Idina Menzel to your Michael Buble.” Richie stands up and takes Eddie’s hands, pulling him up from the chair. “ _I’ll hold your hands-_ ”

“Richie-”

“ _They’re just like ice-_ ”

“That should be my line,” Eddie finally laughs, letting his hands go limp in Richie’s.

Richie grins. “You sing it then.”

Eddie’s stomach flutters as he stares up at him. Glasses smudged with fingerprints, a couple of crooked teeth, light scruff spread across his jaw.

_Shit._

Richie continues: “ _I ought to say no, no, no-_ ”

Eddie giggles again and pushes against Richie’s shoulders, but the other pulls Eddie into his chest. “You are intolerable,” Eddie mutters against his jacket.

“We either stay here and sing a duet together or you can come grab coffee with me.”

Eddie squints at him, but there’s a faint smile stretched on his lips. “This a date, Tozier?” It’s joking, but… he wouldn’t be _opposed_ to it-

“There’s only enough room in my heart for one Kaspbrak, and, I hate to break it to ya, it’s not you, babe.” Eddie gives a disgusted groan. “Come on,” Richie says, finally releasing Eddie and walking over to the door. “You still need a jacket?”

Eddie knows for a fact he has one of his own. “Sure,” he says.

-

It had been snowing all week up on campus. The few inches of what was leftover from last night’s storm crunch beneath both Eddie and Richie feet as they walk down the street, passing through the part of town with all of the small businesses. Eddie’s never been particularly fond of snow; it’s wet and it’s cold and his fingers go numb and having to warm back up is such an inconvenience. But he does have a lot of fond memories involving it. He remembers seeing the losers running up his porch steps after school was canceled for the day, and getting bundled up and going out to build a snowman after ignoring his mother’s protests about how he’ll get sick and to come back in as soon as his nose starts to run. His nose is running a bit now. He doesn’t give it a second thought.

Also, Richie’s sweatshirt is, unsurprisingly, too long. Like, way too long. The sleeves are a good couple of inches past his fingertips and the bottom hem is halfway down his thighs. It’s funny because Richie is ridiculously skinny, just ridiculously _long_. Eddie can hear the dick joke in his head. He’s glad he didn’t say anything out loud.

“Cold?” Richie asks him, his voice followed by a cloud that Eddie isn’t quite sure whether it’s from his breath or the cigarette dangling from Richie’s lips. Probably both.

“Duh,” Eddie replies, shuddering. He lifts a hand to take the cigarette and drop it into the snow, seeing Richie shaking his head out of the corner of his eye. “You told me you were quitting.”

“I said I was working on it,” Richie grumbles, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Eddie bumps Richie with his shoulder. “Don’t get cranky with me. I’m looking out for you.”

Richie bumps him back. “The whole point of college is to be able to do whatever you want.”

“Not with me here.”

“Well, maybe I should’ve gone to California.”

“Pfft. You wouldn’t survive without me.”

Richie wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulder and pulls him into his side. The extra warmth is graciously comforting. “You give yourself too much credit, Eds. I’m a big boy.”

“Yeah, right.”

“In more ways than one.”

There’s the long-awaited dick joke. Eddie smacks the hand dangling over his shoulder and Richie yelps in response.

Evidently, nothing about them has changed since old times. Not the humor, not the bickering, and… definitely not Eddie’s feelings. It shows in how they continue to bounce banter off of each other the entire way there, and it shows in how Richie holds the cafe door open for Eddie, giving him a bow and a “M'lady” that prompts the classic-Eddie response of rolling his eyes and suppressing a smile, and it shows in how the small action that was meant to be taken platonically still makes Eddie’s heart skip a couple of beats.

They take their seats at a small booth by the big windows at the front of the cafe. There’s a good amount of people strolling through the streets, and Eddie notices a few couples, holding hands as they walk together. He has to pry his eyes off of them.

Richie sits with his back against the window and his legs sprawled across the entirety of the booth seat, propping the menu on a raised knee. Eddie gives him a funny look for it and only gets a shrug from the other in response.

“Whatcha gonna get?” Richie asks him.

Eddie skims over the options. He’s not really the type to branch out coffee-wise. “Mmm… the cinnamon latte looks good,” he answers.

“Lame.” Richie closes his menu and slaps it down on the table. “I’m getting a strawberry milkshake.”

“…It’s 9 in the morning and the middle of winter.”

Richie gives him a blank look. “And?”

Eddie lets out a long breath and places his menu on top of the other. “By 'big boy’ you meant twelve years old and not an adult man.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” Richie sits up normally and leans on an elbow. “So how’s that studying you mentioned earlier going?”

Eddie shrugs, sinking into his seat. “Hard, I guess.”

“You always do just fine.” Richie reaches over the table to pat his shoulder, and the touch buzzes through Eddie’s skin. “Fuckin’… smart cookie.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says with a forced smile.

The waitress takes their orders and then sets down their drinks after a couple of minutes of waiting. Richie asks for another straw for the milkshake, and the waitress initially gives a confused look but pulls one out of the apron pocket and slides it in Eddie’s direction before walking off.

“I didn’t want any,” Eddie tells Richie, pulling his mug towards him.

“Just in case.” Richie doesn’t bother with the straws at first and instead takes a sip from the rim of the glass, leaving a stripe of bright pink across his upper lip. “Can’t have you drinking from my straw. Too many germs.”

“Well, your mouth just touched it so you’ve technically already contaminated it.”

Richie wipes his mouth with his sleeve, but there’s still a bit stuck to the pitiful excuse of a mustache he has growing there. “That’s unfortunate.” He unwraps both straws and puts them in the drink. “It’s good, you should try it.”

Eddie shakes his head. “I’ll pass. You could be sick and that is the last thing I need right now.”

“I don’t feel sick,” Richie says.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie replies as he lifts his cup from its saucer and stares down into the foam, “You can still carry bacteria or viruses, or both, even without showing symptoms.”

“Thank you, Dr. K. They teach you this in med school?”

“You would not understand a word of what I learn in med school,” Eddie giggles, sipping from his drink.

“I don’t understand a word of what you tell me already,” Richie says. Eddie looks up at him from his coffee and he’s staring at Eddie with this… look, with a faint smile and raised eyebrows.

“What?” Eddie questions.

“What?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Cus you’re too smart for me, Eds.” Richie breaks the eye contact and stirs the whipped cream into his shake with one of the straws. “You’re gonna… go and be a doctor and do some great damn things. I mean, who knows what I’ll end up doing.”

“Rich,” Eddie murmurs, setting his mug down and giving Richie a gentle look. “You know you’re smart too, right?”

Richie shrugs. “Yeah, but… not in, like, a useful way.”

“Define a 'useful way’.”

The other lets out a strong exhale. “I’m not gonna be a doctor, or a lawyer, or any of that shit. I’ll probably end up a fuckin’ starving artist while the rest of you are out making six figures.” When there’s a pause of silence, Richie just shrugs again and leans back into the seat. “Whatever. Sorry to kill the mood.”

“You don’t have to have it all figured out right now,” Eddie tells him. “And I’ll be here every step of the way while you do figure it out.”

Richie looks up and warmly smiles. “See? You’re too smart and too wise for me. You got a coffee in winter and I got a god damn strawberry milkshake.”

Eddie laughs, reaching for shake’s glass. “You know what, maybe I will try it just to make you feel better.”

“That’s the spirit.”

-

They finish their drinks and begin the walk back to Eddie’s dorm. Eddie got a cheesecake slice to take with, since he thoroughly believes he deserves it after how hard he’s been working.

As they’re making their way up the sidewalk that leads to to the building, Eddie secretly prays that Richie doesn’t ask about the sweatshirt, as he’s realized through the thirty minutes of wearing it how comfy it is. It smells a little bit like weed if Eddie buries his nose far enough into the collar, but the faint scent of the cheap body wash and deodorant Richie uses is pleasant, Eddie guiltily admits to himself.

Eddie leads them up the steps and turns to Richie with a smile. “That was actually fun. Thank you for taking me,” he says.

Richie shrugs and returns a smile of his own. “Would’ve brought the others with, but they were either busy or asleep.”

Eddie chuckles, but he knows deep down how much he appreciated getting to hang out with Richie outside of a group setting.

There are a few seconds of silence alongside eye contact that Eddie _knows_ holds something with meaning from how heavy it is. He can feel himself subconsciously start to lean towards the other.

“Richie-”

“Are you gonna kiss me?”

Eddie immediately recoils and he can feel his stomach lurch. “What?”

Richie’s shoulders visually stiffen. “Are you- are you gonna kiss me?”

“Why would I try to-”

“B-because like if you’re gonna kiss me I just-”

“-kiss you?”

“-wanted to warn you that I, um, I probably have cigarette breath and-”

“Richie-”

“-I have mints on me, if you… if you want to kiss me. If you want to.”

They’re staring at each other again. Eddie has a deeply knitted brow and the panic in Richie’s fair is clear as day.

Richie clears his throat after a few moments and begins to turn away. “I should, uh, probably… go.”

_No, no, no, don’t leave right now!_

The adrenaline spike is almost painful.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Eddie chokes out.

Richie turns his body back towards Eddie, giving him a worried expression. “…More than anything,” he says.

There’s another pause. Richie blinks at him. Eddie takes a shaky step forward and places his hand on Richie’s cheek, the skin warm underneath his numbingly cold fingertips.

“More than anything?” Eddie echoes, looking up into Richie’s deep brown eyes.

Richie nods, and Eddie connects their lips.

The air is fucking _freezing,_ and Eddie is dying to get inside. Regardless, he wraps his other arm around Richie’s shoulders. There’s a hand on his waist and another on the back of his neck, and when Richie pulls back a mere inch, his breath is hot against Eddie’s face.

“Your mouth really does taste like cigarettes,” Eddie quietly tells him. Richie tilts his head back and lets out a loud bout of laughter. Eddie giggles himself before peppering kisses along Richie’s jaw while Richie reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a little box of Tic Tacs, opening the lid and pouring way too many into his mouth. 

“Can we go inside?” Eddie asks, snaking his arms around Richie’s waist. Richie waggles his brows in a suggestive manner, and Eddie punches his arm. “Not like that, stupid. I’m cold.”

“Can we kiss inside?”

Eddie rolls his eyes with a grin. “Yes, we can kiss inside.”

And so they do.


End file.
